Hold on Tight
by Shannon411
Summary: When three highly qualifies secret agent battle their way through a very difficult mission, they discover that the mission was much harder then they expected. Out of this world. The threesome has to face the hardships of being an agent along with the stresses of being just 17 years old.
1. Chapter 1

I woke up on a hospital bed. Mom held my hand with an insincere smile plastered on her face. Dad sat at the foot of the bed along, Annie and Cameron, two of my coworkers. They all looked at me with relieved faces.

"She lost a lot of blood. She might be a little lightheaded for a few days," The doctor said, as if I weren't even in the room, "but she'll be fine."

I lay on the bed completely baffled. What happened? Had I blacked out? My mind swirled with possibilities. Had something happened on the job yesterday? Had I even worked yesterday? Had the agency called me in during the day due to an emergency?

"Katie, honey, how- how do you feel? Are you-" I interrupted her. I know that my mom thinks of me as a baby but I'm much tougher than she thinks. It was sweet sometimes how she always knew the right thing to say, but I really didn't need sympathy at the moment. I needed answers.

"Mom, I'm not two anymore!" I yelled. In hindsight, I was probably being a little tough on her, but she shouldn't have started with the baby talk. It really wasn't the time for that, "w-what _happened_?" I demanded.

I sat up in frustration and felt a sharp pain in my left shoulder. I winced and yanked my hand away from my mom's and placed it on the tightly wrapped bandage. I looked over at my shoulder. I saw blood…lots and lots of blood.

I looked away, as I usually do when I see blood, gashes, or cuts… anything wound related, really. It always made my stomach hurt whenever I look….which really doesn't come in handy on work days.

"You took a good one to the shoulder," Cameron said. He was always the one to get injuries because he is a bit of a risk-taker.

"What he _means_ to say," Annie started, shooting a glare at Cameron who was obviously proud of his choice of words. He kept the smirk on his face even when Annie gave him one of her classic shut-up-it's-not-the-time-for-that faces, "Is that you got a bullet to the shoulder during work. You fell down and blacked out afterwards. You hit your head pretty hard when you collapsed, so I would be surprised if you remember anything," she said, the whole time carefully studying my face to gage my reaction.

"I-I don't remember any of that," I said. All of the color was drained from my face. Was I really stupid enough to make a big enough mistake to have almost cost me my life? "I was really shot?" I asked. There must be an explanation but Cameron was the type to joke around instead of being straight with me. Then again, Annie had always been a sort of serious person, and she was insisting I got shot as well.

"Well, what do you expect," Annie asked sarcastically. Her voice dropped to a soft whisper. She looked around to see if the doctor was still in the room, which he wasn't. "You _are_ a spy, remember?"

"How long was I out?" I asked.

Annie looked to Cameron as if to say, 'go ahead, you tell her.' He sat up in his chair and sighed. "Four days."

"Four days!?" I yelled, eyes wide. How could I have blacked out for four whole days?

"Shhh," My mom and Annie said simultaneously.

I rolled my eyes. Did they really think that a doctor would be listening though the door or something? Gosh, they are paranoid. "Four days?" I whispered.

"Well, you see," Annie said with a serious face, "Cameron had fractured his ankle," he lifted his right leg and shook it. He had on a green cast. I looked over and saw the crutches leaning against the left side of the hospital bed. How had I not noticed them before?

"Typical, Cameron," I said with a grin, "are you okay?"

"Yea, I'm cool," he said, leaned over with his forearms on his knees. His sandy brown hair fell down in front of his face. He picked up one of the crutches and waved it around in the air like a nunchuck. "These crutches are fun to beat people up with. I should break my ankle more often," he joked.

"Anyway," Annie said slowly, trying to get off of the topic of Cameron's broken ankle. "Cameron fractured his ankle and we had to get him to the hospital, but those goons took our… well our stolen car, and there was still a three mile walk to the hospital. We started running but Cameron was limping and you were slowing down to make sure he wouldn't get hurt again so I turned around and ran back to you guys."

I nodded.

"And it turns out that one of the guys was following me. And then, when I turned back, he followed me back to you guys. When I got back, the man took out his gun and shot you from behind one of the bushes. He ran away and we couldn't find him. At this point, we _really _needed to get to the hospital. We kept running and started to get tired so we started walking. Then Cameron-"

"Being the amazing person I am," Cameron interrupted,

"No, being the_ idiot_ he is," she corrected, "the broken-ankled boy carried you the rest of the way."

"Awe, thanks, Cam," I said, smiling.

"I just wanted to be able to tell my story," Cameron said, "'Me, crippled and dying of thirst-'"

"You with a broken ankle, next to a girl holding two full water bottles in her backpack," Annie corrected.

"Whatever, anyway; 'with two crippled legs alone trudging through the desert-'"

"With one broken ankle, next to me, on the streets of California," Annie said matter-of-factly.

"Shut up, let me finish! 'Carried a dying, 1000 pound old woman for 7 miles," Cameron finished.

"Okay, Cameron, I am 17 and not even remotely close to 1000 pounds," I said.

"And it was barely two miles," Annie snapped.

"potato potahto," Cameron said, waving his hand in the air.

"What's your point?" Dad asked.

"Well it took a while to get to the hospital," Annie said, "and Katie lost a lot of blood. So that's why she was out cold for four days."

"But at least my little angel's okay," Mom said with a smile.

"So-so what exactly happened?" I stammered.

"Code 8.9963," Cameron said. I was surprised he memorized the codes; even though he was required to, memorizing things wasn't really his forte. He just liked to 'get into the action' as he often put it.

"A stolen artifact?" I asked.

"Yep. Some old painting," Cameron started, "the government guy-"

"Keith," Annie corrected him, "you know he hates you not calling him by his real name."

"Whatever. Fine, 'Keith' showed us a picture of it and it's kinda really ugly," Cameron said, "I don't know why someone would want to steal that thing."

"-anyway, the agency called us early in the morning to go to the goon's hideout to steal the painting back,"

"I was sooo tired," Cameron said, "I don't get up before one p.m., nonetheless one _a.m_.

"Little did we know that the people who had stolen the painting also had took the time to set up booby-traps," Annie explained, "We dodged lasers, avoided several trip wires-"

"Beat up some brainless frauds," Cameron interrupted.

Annie ignored him. "And avoided several other traps on the way to retrieving the artifact," Annie said.

"Then what was the problem, why didn't we recover the painting?" I questioned.

"Well… We finally found the room containing the artifact," Annie said, "it had open access, no traps, just the beautiful painting alone on a pedestal, illuminated by a single light cutting through the darkness, along with several windows that could be used for an easy escape route. It all seemed so easy, so- so straightforward; simply walk in undetected and obtain the artifact before slipping through the window and returning the painting to the museum. Simple!"

"Mhmm, and?" I asked.

"And Cameron was walking in front of me. In the entrance to the room was one final tripwire. He didn't see it and neither did I. It set off a loud alarm and we made a run for it. We tried to run in fast to grab the artifact and run out before the guards came. But we were too late, there was a window next to the entry to the room and we couldn't see it previously because of the angle we were at. Behind the window was a small room, about the size of a coat closet, with a single desk and chair. A man, presumably a guard, was sitting in the chair with his feet up on the desk drinking a cup of coffee. As soon as he saw us come in, he panicked and pressed a big red button on his desk and the guards started coming towards us. We heard footsteps coming from the hallway next to the widow. The windows had metal bars dropping from above and blocking all paths to escape. But then I remembered- there was still the door we had come in. So we ran back and as we went through the doors, metal bars started dropping, closing up the only possible escape route. We got through, first me, then you, slid underneath them. Cameron was the last one through, barely sliding under on his back – and he almost made it but his ankle got stuck. The metal door crushed it and he screamed. It was so scary… we pulled and pulled but it was no use. There was no way we could get him out. We looked around for something to jimmy the metal bar and somehow you noticed a loose brick in the wall, pulled it out, and we used that to jam the bar. I can't believe it worked and Cameron was able to pull his injured leg out. We ran and fought off several armed guards on the way out. We finally got out of the building but the guards were chasing us. After a few minutes of running, we were tiring and you were shot and we were both so worried…then we walked to the hospital."

"And now…" Cameron started.

"Yes?" I asked.

"Now…we need to complete the mission."

"Huh? But I'm injured- you're injured! How are…"

"Look, you can come along, we will be in front of you the whole time, we already know all of the traps… no biggie, right?"

"Huge biggie," I shouted, "you have a broken ankle! And- and you had to carry an '1000 pound old lady 7 miles' so your ankle is even worse!"

"I told you, these weird crutchie thingies are fun too beat up bad dudes with!"

"Well, if you're sure, then we'd better get going," I said.


	2. Chapter 2

The car drove down the bumpy road. I heard the birds chirping and the waves roaring off the beach next to the hill we drove along. All was calm, quiet. It was a beautiful day for fighting off hardened criminals. All of us sat quietly, anticipating the worst possible scenario. Even Cameron didn't speak for once.

In the car, Annie was driving and Cameron and I were in the back. Finally, Cameron broke the silence, "I'm bored. Are we there yet!?" He sounded like a two-year-old.

"No, Cameron, we aren't there yet," Annie said, rolling her eyes, "we still have several miles to go."

"Ugh," Cameron complained.

"Sorry, Cam," I reassured him.

"Look over there!" Cameron yelled, "A murderer!"

"Huh?" Annie asked, trying desperately to keep her eyes on the road.

"Stop the car!"

"No! What are you talking about!?"

"Stop the car!"

"No, Cam, don't be a freak, what are you talking about?"

"STOP THE CAR! Someone's in trouble!"

Annie turned the steering wheel fast and the car skidded to a halt. "What happened?" Annie bellowed, "Where!?"

Cameron giggled, "Gotcha!"

"You got me so scared!"

"I had to break the awkward silence,"

Annie and I rolled our eyes. Annie turned the car around and we were back on the road. Several minutes passed, with each the hills flattened and the trees thinned. After about twenty minutes, we were driving along a dirt road with a flat, rocky landscape to all sides.

I saw a car coming our way. It was a black van with red markings. A tourist maybe? No, it couldn't be. We were in the middle of nowhere… who were they?

"Those goons found us again!" Cameron yelled, eyes wide, "they are coming our way."

"It's not funny, Cameron," Annie turned around but kept her hand on the steering wheel, "stop trying to trick us."

"No, he isn't joking, look," I pointed toward the speeding van.

"It's those lunatics again," Annie protested.

She slowed the car and Cameron swung his door open, a crutch in his hand. Annie turned around in her seat, "You stay here," she said, sternly.

"But I want to help," I said, ignoring my injured shoulder.

"Katie, you are too injured to fight," she said sympathetically, "stay put!"

Before I could argue, Annie slammed the door shut and waited while the van approached.

The black van skidded to a stop a few yards away from Annie. The man stepped out of the car, Annie held a black leather wallet behind her back. The man was wearing a gray suit with a black checkered tie. Annie walked slowly and calmly up to the man and presented her FBI badge. "Sir, you have committed a serious violation of code 8.9963 and code 3 dash 7. I'm afraid that if you do not remove your hands from your pockets, I will have to call the police and you will be in serious trouble. Please turn around and put your hands behind your back," Annie said, calmly, as if she had said that same speech dozens of times.

"I'm sorry, young lady, but I am afraid I don't know what you're talking about," he said slyly with a slight smirk on his face.

"Stay down," said a voice behind me.

I almost screamed but a hand covered my mouth. I turned around and he removed his hand.

"Dude, chill, it's just me," whispered a familiar voice, it was Cameron, "lay low and don't let him see you, he's got a gun in his pocket. I'm Annie's backup, if he threatens her, I come up from behind and get him with my little friend," said Cameron, gesturing to his crutch, "If it's absolutely necessary, you can come in and set that chump straight."

I nodded in reply.

"Sir, that is not necessary," Annie said, sounding panicked, "If you do this, you will get in even more trouble."

"Sounds like that's my cue," whispered Cameron.

"Cam…"

"Yea?"

"Be careful," I said. The truth was, I cared about Cameron, a lot. I really didn't want him to get hurt. I knew that he thought of us as just friends but I thought of him as more than that.

"I will," he said with a comforting smile.

As he stepped out of the car, he whispered the plan, "Shimmy out next to the car. If he shoots one of us, run. Make sure he doesn't see you. If you drive away, he will get you too, for sure. If he threatens one or both of us, don't try to reason with him." He handed me a pistol and told me to put it in my pocket and keep it handy at all times. "If you need to use it, don't hesitate. If he hurts one of us, you return the favor." In all of my many months working with Cameron, I had not once seen him so serious before.

"Got it," I whispered.

Cameron snuck behind the man with his crutch and knocked the gun out of his hand. _He's got this, _I thought; _it's only one goon against two highly qualified secret agents. _I shimmied next to the car on the side no one could see, awaiting our victory. Although I didn't look, I could hear that we were winning. Suddenly, I had a moment of realization, what if we didn't win? What if I went out there to save my friends and I got afraid and I froze… What then? What if I _had _to use the gun and I killed a man and had to remember it for the rest of my life? What then? My mind swirled with thoughts.

My thought process was interrupted by a scream. Cameron! I had no time to make a plan. I sprung out from behind the car. "Cameron!" I looked around for him. A man leaped out of the black van except it wasn't the man with the gray suit. It turns out he wasn't alone. I looked over at Cameron who lay on the ground holding him forearm in pain.

I heard a yell, "Katie, help! We've got company… I'll take the new one," Annie yelled desperately, "You cover the old guy!" I had to assume that the old guy was the man with the gray suit and black tie.

I looked around for him… where was he? I averted my attention towards Cameron for a minute. "Help," he managed through gritted teeth. Next to Cameron stood the man with the gray suit… pointing a gun at Cameron! I had to act fast! I jumped in front of Cameron and pointed the pistol at the man with the gun. I used my right hand to hold up the gun and my left hand hung limp at my side. My heart was pounding and my shoulder was throbbing

"Don't…you…dare," I said to the man. Sweat beaded on his forehead. Was he really going to shoot me!? No, he seemed too afraid. I had to protect Cameron.

A hand came up from behind the man and knocked him down with a metal crutch. Annie stood above the man. He lay unconscious on the ground. Annie smiled down at him. She seemed proud of her accomplishment. I knelt beside Cameron. "You okay," I asked him

"You saved my life," He said. I smiled back at him.

* * *

"So there's no permanent damage to your wrist?" Annie asked Cameron.

"No, it's just a little sprain, that's all," Cameron responded.

Annie turned towards me, "I've got a lot of papers to fill out back at the office, I'll catch you guys later?"

"Okay, see you later," I said back.

Cameron held my hand, "Can I treat you to lunch, since you're the reason I'm still alive?" he asked with a sly smile.

"I'd love to."


End file.
